Today, Tina and I drove to the south side of the city to an area called Palos Park. I think.
We visited Tina’s aunt and uncle to share some recent black & white photos that Tina received from her brother. The photos were from Tina’s parents and grandparents, and many of the faces were of strangers or people we have no way of recognizing.
Tina thought it would be a good idea to share the shots with her family to see if they could identify them or if they would even want them, or copies of them.
It was a trip down memory lane, and her uncle was able to name many of the folks in the photos.
Among the pictures were envelopes filled with loved-one’s hair.
It’s great when you’re looking at photos, and you hear the stories about different people. Tina’s uncle would say, “Oh man, this guy here. Your mom’s uncle’s brother’s sister-in-laws brother’s cousin’s dad … I hated that guy … what an asshole.”
I love the candor.
I personally enjoyed looking at the quality of the photos. I mean, you have these strange families in their better-than-Sunday best posing in the once-in-a-lifetime photo that captured them in such crisp and beautiful black and white. Or the little photos that are thumbnails of street scenes. Kids playing in fire hydrant water. So much history with ghosts whom I’ll never ever meet. Or maybe met once at a wedding or funeral.
It was a lot of fun.
After the trip down memory lane, we enjoyed dinner together before driving 45 minutes back to the city.
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